


a warm welcome

by rainny_days



Series: Team K Mafia!AU [1]
Category: Team K - Fandom
Genre: Anupya's the ghost in the wires, BAMF!Adva, BAMF!Everybody, Bad Chess Playing, Fei is Tired of Your Shit, Gen, mafia!au, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 15:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14451951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainny_days/pseuds/rainny_days
Summary: A break-in happens. Team K reacts accordingly.(Fei would like to inform everyone that they can make their appointments online or through phone, preferably a week in advance)(otherwise, she is not responsible for the consequences)





	a warm welcome

_ There’re some guys outside, I’m pretty sure they’re here for the ‘Boss’. _

_ Oh? How many? _

Anupya swiveled around in her chair, tapping innocuously on her phone. Anyone looking in her office windows would’ve seen a young woman sitting in front of a computer screen full of code- a typical day in the life of a software designer. That is, until you saw the security footages running on multiple screens on her phone.

_ Seven. A few at the doors, a few at the windows. No-one’s found the other entrances, though. _

_ They wouldn’t. Thanks, I’ll inform the security. _

A grin.

_ I’ll send you the footage later. _

* * *

The door hissed slightly as it opened, letting through three men, tall and bulky, moving silently across the floor.

“According to the plans, the Boss should be on the third floor,” Mobster #1 said, scanning over the blueprints on his phone. The other two nodded, wordlessly following his lead as he went towards the staircase.

“Hey!”

All three froze.

“I thought there weren’t any guards posted here!” hissed Mobster #2.

“There shouldn’t be, according to the security rounds. I took out all the cameras, too.”

(Somewhere else, in a spacious office, a young woman grins to herself and mutters, under her breath, ‘ _ Only the ones I wanted you to.’ _ )

Slowly, as one, they turn around-

-and let out a sigh of relief.

It’s a slight girl with her hands in her pockets, bone-thin, lanky, and grinning widely. The men look at each other peripherally and share a smirk. A relative, probably. Or a girlfriend.

“Hey,” said Mobster #1, smiling charmingly, “Sorry, Miss- you shouldn’t be here. It’s a bit dangerous right now.”

The grin doesn’t waver. “So what are you guys doing?”

“Oh, just making our rounds. Wouldn’t want anyone dangerous creeping in.”

The grin inches fractionally wider, and the mobsters notice for the first time the glint in her eyes; the neatly-pressed suit jacket tailored for her narrow shoulders; the easy grace of her movements.

“Oh no,” she agrees cheerfully, “We wouldn’t want  _ that. _ ”

And then, in the time between two breaths, one of them’s lying on his back, clutching his right knee and cursing. The girl has another man in her grip, wrists together behind his back, knuckle busters crackling with electricity. The third man stares. Then, he charges.

She dodges his punch with ease, not letting go of her captive. The man on the ground is getting up, reaching behind himself to pull out a baton. He takes a swing at her arm, forcing the bound man out of her grip. He tries to knock her down, only to have her swing herself behind him and push his head down, his skull hitting the ground with a dull thud. He doesn’t get up.

“You bitch-!” the other man shouts, bringing his baton down with several swings. The third man kicks out at her. She grabs his foot and, in a tv-esque move, swings him bodily into the other man. They both hit the wall and fall into a heap.

She walks over to them and nudges one of the bodies with her toe. It doesn’t move.

“Huh,” she says, “Easier than I thought.”

Pulling out her phone and a roll of duct tape, she set to work.

* * *

_ Three down in the corridors. Two alive. _

_ Great. I’ll send cleanup. _

* * *

“Where the hell are they? They were supposed to have come to let us in ten minutes ago!”

“Suppose they went to off him themselves. Figures.”

“Yeah, and they’ll probably take all the cash with them, too.”

One of the four men, evidently fed up with the waiting, reached towards the window.

A shot rang out.

The others looked at where their companion had been, now only a red smudge, and then whipped their heads around to find the source of the shot.

(“Don’t even try,” Sebastian murmured to himself, adjusting the sniper rifle on his shoulder on a roof half a kilometer away, “It’s not like you’ll ever be able to see it coming.”)

The men scatter, running in different directions. One took out his gun and promptly had it shot out of his hand. Another fell in a mist of blood.

(“Three....two...and there’s the last one.”)

A thud.

Silence.

* * *

_ Got three more in the backyard! _

_ Great, are any identifiable? _

_ I shot one through the heart, so his head’s still intact. Not sure about the others, though. _

_ That’ll do. Giulia’s gonna want some ID to trace these guys- she thinks they’re from that new drug trafficking gang. _

_ That explains why they were stupid enough to go after us, at least. _

_ I know, right? _

* * *

“What were the noises outside all about?”

Zahra looked up from her desk as her secretary walked in, one earbud in and tapping on her screen. Fei gazed back at her for a moment, then shrugged.

“Oh, the usual.”

“You’d think they’d know better by now,” Mariel commented from across the desk, moving a chess piece across the board, seemingly at random. Zahra frowned, as if she could actually understand the move.

“Did you take care of the source?”

Fei’s tapping on her phone didn’t falter.

“Oh, yeah. I sent Rainny to take care of the men. And Anya should be back with the goods any minute. Amy said that their stuff’s pretty decent, so we should be able to get a good profit.”

“Great, and the base?”

“I’ll buy the land- Sanam’s been talking about getting a new identity, anyways.”

Mariel stretched, standing up. She buttoned her suit neatly, smoothing the bespoke fabric with a easy, if distracted, sweep of her hand. The glimmer of a hidden dagger momentarily gleams from the cuff of her jacket, reflecting silver-gold against the navy fabric.

“I guess that’s my cue to start investigations,” she said. “The Ivory’s been getting twitchy, lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re the ones who planted the idea into their heads.”

Zahra sighed.

“They just don’t make drug gangs like they used to.”


End file.
